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Kiyoomi is in bed, freshly showered after a day of packing when his phone begins to ring.
He knows - will probably always know exactly who would be calling at this time of night - not that he ever has many people calling him in the first place.
Atsumu never fails to call him around this time - itching to hear his voice and wanting know what he’s been up to all day. Even if he’s gotten texts from the moment Kiyoomi woke up - Atsumu likes talking with him.
And it means a lot - that someone, someone like Atsumu, cares to listen to him. Cares about him.
So he answers.
“Hey, Omi.”
Every time - it makes his heart somersault in his chest every time he hears Atsumu greet him like that. He should be used to it - used to the way he calls him Omi or baby or sweetheart. But he’s not. He’s not sure he’ll ever be used to it.
Not that he wants to - he thinks.
Because it feels new each time. Feels like a good reminder that Atsumu chooses, for some reason, to be with him. That each little nickname is a declaration of his own - a small claim that leaves Kiyoomi burning all over.
It’s nice. He likes it.
“Hi…”
He winces, vaguely wondering if he makes Atsumu feel those same fluttering feelings he gets when the other talks. He’s not as sweet, doesn’t say pet names, or terms of endearment. He hopes - really hopes - that it’s not something that could drive Atsumu away.
But.
What if…
“Atsu.”
Silence. Then.
“Oh.”
“Was that too much? I’m-“ Kiyoomi begins to apologize, feeling stupid and embarrassed and red all over when he’s interrupted.
“No!”
“No?” He questions, fingers clutching the bedsheets below him tighter.
“I liked it. Uh - a lot. M’ sorry, ya just caught me off guard.” Atsumu says, sounding a little more confident. “It’s cute.”
“Cute.” Kiyoomi knows he can’t see him at that moment but that doesn’t stop him from covering his face with his free hand and groaning in embarrassment.
Atsumu laughs, like he knows what Kiyoomi looks like anyways. “Relax, baby. I’m not tryin’ to make fun of ya.”
“I know.” Kiyoomi says with a sigh, feeling his face finally cool down. “Is there a reason why you called?”
“Can’t a guy just call his boyfriend?” Atsumu asks with amusement. As if he hasn’t just casually said the word they’d carefully tip toed around. It was always a topic they’ve narrowly avoided - too busy kissing or doing other things to really acknowledge what exactly they were to each other.
Kiyoomi knew - what he wanted to be and what he wanted Atsumu to be to him. It’s easy, like solving the most basic of math questions.
1 1 is 2.
2 2 is 4.
Kiyoomi is Atsumu’s.
Atsumu is Kiyoomi’s.
And here was Atsumu - just saying it. Like he’d always decided this factor long ago. Calling Kiyoomi his boyfriend without asking because that’s who Atsumu is. When he wants something - he takes it with no remorse, no questions or apologies.
And Kiyoomi - Kiyoomi will let him. But maybe not without some pushback.
“Oh? Since when am I your boyfriend?” There’s the pushback and knowing Atsumu, he’ll tug and tug until Kiyoomi is in his arms, pliant and needy, willing to do whatever he wants.
“Omi - come on, sweetheart.”
God. He shouldn’t melt. But he does. Atsumu calls him sweetheart and he folds like fragile paper. “I just didn’t think you’d-“
“You know I do, Omi.” Atsumu says, “I have for years now. No use in trying to act dumb now.”
Kiyoomi huffs and lays back further into his pillows. “Fine. You’re my boyfriend. And - and I’m yours right?”
“That’s right, Omi, you’re mine.” He affirms, soothingly, placating him the same way you would a cat with its hackles risen - ready to bite. “Anyways, I did call for a reason. Other than talking with ya - did you get your packing done yet?”
He purses his lips and glances at the boxes and packed up suitcases in the corner of his room.
There’s only 2 weeks left of break before his first semester of college. Before he’s busy with a new life, new school, new volleyball team and a lot less time with Atsumu.
He wasn’t ready. Not yet. Because like Atsumu - he isn’t ready for the distance, for the small ridge that will inevitably grow between them.
What if this little thing - this new, fragile thing, can’t handle it? What if -
“For the most part yeah. I got most of it done today.” He responds instead of paying attention to his spiraling thoughts.
“Good. Then you can come to Okinawa with me this weekend.”
Honestly, he forgot all about that idea Atsumu had at the beginning of break. Of taking a trip with just the two of him. One last hoorah before adulthood slammed into them like an oncoming train.
Mostly because he didn’t think Atsumu would actually plan it out.
“Okinawa? We can’t afford a trip there, Atsumu.” He says in slight exasperation.
Atsumu chuckles, unperturbed by Kiyoomi’s doubt. “Didn't I say not to worry your pretty head about it?”
“Atsumu -“
“Okay, okay. Listen, Aran’s parents own a beach house there. He convinced them to let us borrow it for the weekend…uuunder the pretense that Aran was also going to be there.” Atsumu explains, before quickly adding. “But don’t worry - he won’t be there. He’ll be with Kita in Kyoto actually.”
“Somehow this isn’t making me feel better.”
“Baby, trust me, please? I promise we’ll have fun and ya won’t need to worry about a thing.” And it’s the plea in Atsumu’s voice that has him softening - just a little.
He exhales deeply before relenting. “Okay fine. Give me the details and I’ll see if I can make it happen. But don’t get your hopes up.”
“You got it, sweetheart.”
It’s surprisingly easy to get his parents to agree to the trip. Mixing in a little white lie with his question - “There’s going to be a group of us together, my…friends.”
And well - his parents bought it. He receives a cheek pinch from his mother and a head pat from his father, both proud that their reclusive son was finally branching out and making friends.
So proud - they even booked him the best flight and handed him a large wad of cash to use during his trip. He and Atsumu could go on a really nice date with that money.
He’s careful to not talk so briskly back up stairs to his room - he didn’t want to look suspicious in any way.
Once his door was locked and he is back in bed, Kiyoomi sends a text to his boyfriend -
‘I can go. This trip better not suck, Miya.’
Atsumu meets him at the airport in Okinawa, already dressed for the tropical weather. Kiyoomi takes in his golden skin and muscular arms that look amazing in that tank top he wears. He swears - it feels so much more warmer than it should be.
“Omi-Omi!” Atsumu greets, cradling his face and kissing his cheek that’s hidden behind his face mask. “Missed ya, baby.”
And Kiyoomi - completely melts.
The warmth of Atsumu’s hands against his cheeks and the softness of his voice make Kiyoomi’s stomach flip, and he struggles to keep his cool as he pulls down his mask slightly, murmuring, “It’s only been a few weeks.”
“Still missed ya,” Atsumu insists, grinning in that way that always makes Kiyoomi feel exposed, like he can see every little shift in his expression, every quiet beat of his heart. “C’mon, let’s get goin’. The beach house’s waitin’.”
The flight to Okinawa was short, but Kiyoomi felt every second of it with how he slumped against his boyfriend throughout the whole ride.
Atsumu’s hand stays warm on his knee as they are driven to the beach house, squeezing occasionally to make sure he’s okay, and it’s such a small thing, but somehow it makes Kiyoomi feel safe, like maybe this trip was a good idea after all.
When they finally arrive at the bungalow, the sun is dipping low over the ocean, casting everything in shades of gold and pink. The house is small but cozy, with two bedrooms, a little kitchen, and a wide veranda that opens right onto the beach.
Atsumu drops his bag by the door, hands on his hips as he takes in the space with a satisfied grin. “Ain’t it perfect? Just the two of us, our own little paradise.”
Kiyoomi flushes, nodding as he looks around. His eyes drift toward the bedroom they’ll be sharing, and he feels a rush of heat in his face. The idea of sharing a room with Atsumu… it’s exciting but makes him want to hide his face behind his mask again. “How did you manage to pull this off?”
Atsumu chuckles, leaning in closer. “Told my parents the truth, mostly. They know I’m here with ya.” He grins, nudging Kiyoomi playfully. “They were glad, actually. Said it’s good to know I didn’t screw things up with ‘the boy they approve of.’”
Kiyoomi raises an eyebrow, feeling a blush creep up his neck. “They approve of me?”
“Of course they do. I mean, what’s not to approve of?” Atsumu winks at him playfully.
He glances down, unsure how to respond, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement that he can’t quite put into words.
Atsumu notices, though, stepping closer until he’s just a breath away, his gaze softening. “Hey, we got the whole weekend, just us. No volleyball, no school—just… us.” He tilts Kiyoomi’s chin up, and Kiyoomi meets his gaze, finding only reassurance there. The beach, the warmth, Atsumu’s closeness—it all feels like the perfect escape, one last moment together before life pulls them in different directions.
“Yeah,” Kiyoomi murmurs, letting a small smile break through. “Just us.”
That night, Atsumu cooks them dinner. Kiyoomi’s legs swing back and forth from his place on the counter - mildly surprised that his boyfriend is pretty good in the kitchen.
It’s attractive -
Really damn attractive.
The sappy, softer side of him thinks of how he could see this being his - being their future together. Atsumu cooking dinner, Kiyoomi dutifully being his taste tester.
It’s -
More than his heart could probably take.
Atsumu turns off the stove burner and moves to stand in between his legs. “What are ya thinking about, Omi?” His hands rest on Kiyoomi’s thighs, tracing an unknown pattern on his sweats covered legs.
Kiyoomi hums and leans in closer, “You. Me.” He presses a kiss to the other’s eyebrow. “Us.”
“Oh yeah?” Atsumu chuckles, his voice low and warm, like the evening breeze drifting in from the open window. His fingers tighten slightly on Kiyoomi’s thighs, grounding him, anchoring him in this perfect, quiet moment.
Kiyoomi nods, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he meets Atsumu’s gaze. “I know it’s… kinda dumb. But I keep thinking about it. What it’d be like if we did this every night. Dinner, just us, maybe some place that’s ours.”
Atsumu’s smile softens, his eyes searching Kiyoomi’s face, as if committing every detail to memory. “I think about it too, Omi. A lot more than I’d probably admit.”
Kiyoomi’s breath catches as Atsumu leans in, their faces close, his voice almost a whisper - like he was sharing a secret just between them. “Ya know, I’d want nothin’ more than that. I’d wanna come home to ya every night, cook ya dinner, watch ya sitting on the counter, all cute like this. Maybe even argue over what movie to watch afterward, just so I can pretend to let ya win.”
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, though his heart’s racing at the thought of it. “Let me win?”
Atsumu grins, his hands moving up to wrap around Kiyoomi’s waist, pulling him a little closer. “Yeah, well, gotta make sure ya don’t get too annoyed with me if we’re gonna spend every night together. Can’t have ya regrettin’ your choice.”
“Like I’d ever regret it,” Kiyoomi murmurs, feeling bold as he reaches up, resting his hands on Atsumu’s shoulders. “If anything, I think you’d get tired of me first.”
Atsumu huffs a laugh, his gaze softening with something Kiyoomi doesn’t quite know how to name. “Baby, there ain’t a chance in hell of that happenin’. I’d be the luckiest guy in the world to have ya by my side every day.”
Then.
Atsumu leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to Kiyoomi’s forehead, lingering there as if savoring the moment.
“You ready for dinner?” Atsumu finally asks - so warm, so affectionate.
Kiyoomi nods, feeling his cheeks heat up even more. “Yeah… and don’t think I didn’t notice how impressive your cooking is, by the way.”
“Oh? Impressive, huh?” Atsumu grins, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. “Then you better be honest with your feedback, ‘cause I made this for ya.”
Kiyoomi smirks, slipping off the counter and letting his hand linger on Atsumu’s arm as they move to the table. “I will. Just know, if it’s bad, I’ll force you to make me something better.”
Atsumu laughs, the sound filling the little kitchen, and Kiyoomi can’t help but feel like he’s right where he’s meant to be—by Atsumu’s side, creating something that feels like a beginning -
Like a future.
There’s a strange, thick tension that settles between them through dinner and continues as they get ready for bed. They’d both long showered and now lay facing each other - as if this was the first time they’ve slept in a bed together.
Though somehow this felt so much more - so much bigger.
“I’m really happy you were able to make it, Omi.” Atsumu says lowly, his hand coming up to trace across his cheek.
Like clockwork Kiyoomi’s cheeks heats up as he leans into the touch, looking up at him through his lashes, “What if I hadn't? Would you have brought someone else?”
He was fishing - a bit. And Atsumu sees right through it but he humors Kiyoomi anyway.
“Nah.” He scoots just a little closer - invading Kiyoomi’s space, finger stroking his lower lip. “There’s no one else I want here.”
Kiyoomi’s breath hitches, his heart beating faster as Atsumu’s fingers brush his lip. The air between them feels electric, like they’re on the edge of something they can’t turn back from (not that either want to anyway). He meets Atsumu’s gaze, his chest tightening with something that feels a lot like anticipation—and maybe a hint of fear.
A little - because, because this moment…
He knows what this moment is -
Atsumu leans in, his eyes flicking down to Kiyoomi’s mouth, and suddenly he can feel every inch of the bed beneath them, every little shift and creak as Atsumu closes the distance. Then, without any more words, Atsumu’s mouth is on his, soft and slow at first - like he’s savoring the taste.
Savoring the taste of Kiyoomi.
But the kiss quickly deepens, something unrestrained, needy, breaking through. Kiyoomi’s hand finds its way into Atsumu’s hair, fingers threading through the blond strands as he pulls him closer, until there’s no space left between them.
Atsumu’s hands are firm at his waist, grounding him even as Kiyoomi feels like he’s floating, like the world is tilting off its axis.
They pull back only for a moment, both of them breathing hard, eyes locked in the dim light of the room. Atsumu’s thumb brushes along Kiyoomi’s jaw, his voice a low murmur, heavy with affection and need. “God, Omi… you have no idea what you do to me.”
Kiyoomi’s cheeks burn, his heart pounding wildly. “I think I have a pretty good idea,” he replies, voice softer than he intended as he throws a leg over Atsumu’s hip, letting their hardening cocks brush together.
Atsumu smirks, his fingers slipping under the hem of Kiyoomi’s shirt, grazing along his side almost reverently. “Fuck - ya drive me crazy.”
Their lips meet again, and this time Atsumu holds nothing back. The kiss is heated, urgent, like they’re trying to make up for all the lost time between them these past few weeks, all the nights they’d thought about this but couldn’t act on it.
Atsumu’s hands slide down his back, pulling him forward until Kiyoomi’s pressed against him, closer, closer, closer.
He gasps against his mouth, widening so Atsumu can dip his tongue in. This - this is familiar - what Kiyoomi knows.
But before more can happen - Atsumu stops.
“Atsumu?” Kiyoomi asks, brows furrowed. Worried that he had done something wrong.
“Not yet - I” Atsumu pauses, blushing adorably. “I wanna do this right. When we go further - just - for tonight, let’s stay like this.”
It’s cute. So damn cute.
Kiyoomi indulges him and presses one last lingering kiss to the other’s lips before snuggling into his arms - exhaustion seeping in.
“Alright, Atsu.”
He feels Atsumu’s arms tighten around him and lips brush the crown of his head.
It’s okay. They have time for the rest. The entire weekend is theirs.
Kiyoomi is on edge for whole day - from the moment he wakes up (with Atsumu trailing kisses up his spine, working his way up to his lips as a wake up call) to now, as he lounges on the beach watching his boyfriend -
His unfairly gorgeous, hot as fuck boyfriend -
Step out of the ocean, golden skin glimmering and slick - droplets tracing down his chest and catching the light.
Kiyoomi can’t look away - can’t stop his gaze from trailing over every line and angle, the toned muscle of Atsumu’s arms, the way his swim shorts cling a little too perfectly. It’s maddening, really.
He tries to be subtle, tries to pretend he’s not completely captivated by the sight, but his heart pounds, a little faster with every step Atsumu takes toward him.
Atsumu notices, of course, that smirk tugging at his lips as he reaches Kiyoomi’s towel under the umbrella.
“Ya enjoyin’ the view?” Atsumu teases, dropping down to sit beside him, his eyes gleaming - teasing.
Kiyoomi raises an eyebrow, trying to keep his composure, but there’s a warmth spreading across his cheeks that betrays him. “Maybe,” he replies coolly, tilting his head as if inspecting him. “You’re not the worst sight, I suppose.”
Atsumu laughs, the sound deep and rich, and he moves closer—too close, settling between Kiyoomi’s legs, his hands resting on either side of his thighs. He leans in, water still dripping from his hair, and Kiyoomi feels his heart stutter as Atsumu’s face inches close.
“Not the worst, huh?” Atsumu murmurs, his voice low, eyes locked onto Kiyoomi’s with so much desire that it sends a shiver down his spine. “Guess I’ll take it as a compliment.”
Kiyoomi swallows, struggling to keep his breathing steady, feeling the weight of Atsumu’s presence, the closeness, the scent of salt and sun. “Don’t get cocky.”
Atsumu chuckles, his hand coming up to brush a stray curl away from Kiyoomi’s face, his fingers lingering on his cheek. “You say that,” he murmurs, “but ya love it.”
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, but there’s no denying the way his pulse quickens, the way he leans into the touch, just a little. “Do I?”
Atsumu leans even closer, his lips grazing Kiyoomi’s ear as he whispers, “I think ya do, Omi.” His breath is warm, and Kiyoomi feels heat pooling in his chest, in his stomach, in places he doesn’t care to acknowledge right now.
There’s undeniable tension between them, one that’s been simmering since last night, growing hotter with every shared glance, every lingering touch. It’s like they’re both waiting, both savoring the moment and the build-up, knowing exactly where this is going but in no rush to get there.
Atsumu’s fingers trace idle patterns on Kiyoomi’s knee and Kiyoomi shifts feeling entirely too…hot. He looks up, catching the gleam in Atsumu’s eyes, the playful, hungry look that says he knows exactly what he’s doing.
Kiyoomi lets out a shaky breath. “You’re impossible.”
Atsumu grins, leaning in to press a quick, warm kiss to Kiyoomi’s lips, barely enough to satisfy but more than enough to leave him wanting. “And yet ya still like me.”
Kiyoomi scoffs, but there’s no real bite to it. “Shut up.”
Atsumu just laughs, moving to settle back against his chest as he lounges between Kiyoomi’s legs, head resting on his shoulder as they look out over the waves.
Kiyoomi wraps an arm around him, fingers brushing over Atsumu’s arm as they both fall into a comfortable silence, watching the sea and the sky stretch out before them.
Their day is full of shopping, sightseeing, and plenty of food. By the end of it Kiyoomi is content, sated, and entirely too full.
And later - though Kiyoomi is tired, he allows himself to be led back into the beach, fingers interlocked with Atsumu’s.
The sun is nearly set once a spot has been found and Kiyoomi lays against Atsumu’s chest - feeling so, so happy.
He sits there - with strong, warm arms around him, thinking if this was all real? Would they always stay like this?
What will happen when they leave this paradise - this small bubble they’ve created just for themselves?
The thought of leaving this perfect, secluded moment makes Kiyoomi’s chest ache just a little. What would happen when they return to the everyday chaos: school, volleyball, expectations, and the inevitable changes that come with growing up?
He’s not the type to voice his worries (he often lets it fester and fester and fester), but here, under the fading light with Atsumu’s steady heartbeat beneath his ear, the question slips out.
“Atsumu,” he says quietly, his fingers brushing absently over Atsumu’s forearm wrapped around him, “do you think… we’ll still be like this? When everything else starts pulling us in different directions?”
Atsumu shifts behind him, leaning closer until his chin rests on Kiyoomi’s shoulder, his voice soft but sure. “I know we will, Omi.” His fingers lace tighter with Kiyoomi’s, like he’s sealing a promise between them. “Things’ll change—yeah, maybe there’ll be bumps. But nothing—volleyball, school, whatever—none of it will make me stop wantin’ this with you.” He pauses, a smile in his voice as he adds, “I’m head over heels for ya, Omi. Don’t think I could stop if I tried.”
Kiyoomi can’t help the small, shy smile that tugs at his lips, even as he huffs to cover the flutter in his chest. “You’re so damn sappy, you know that?”
Atsumu chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to Kiyoomi’s neck that sends warmth spreading down to his toes. “Maybe I am,” he murmurs against his skin, “but it’s worth it. I like you too fuckin’ much to care if I’m bein’ a little embarrassin’.”
There’s something so genuine, so utterly Atsumu in those words that Kiyoomi’s heart skips. He tilts his head back, meeting Atsumu’s gaze, and they stay there, just looking at each other, breathing each other in.
Then -
Then - slowly, carefully, Kiyoomi leans in, capturing Atsumu’s lips in a soft, lingering kiss that speaks all the things he’s never been great at saying out loud.
They kiss for what feels like forever, soft and unhurried, letting the waves and the warm breeze carry them.
There’s a sense of peace, of something so damn right, in the way they fit together, like they’re both exactly where they’re meant to be.
Finally, Kiyoomi pulls back just enough to whisper against Atsumu’s lips, “Take me to bed, Atsumu.”
Atsumu’s eyes light up, his smile widening as he squeezes Kiyoomi’s hand. “Anything for ya, Omi.”
He’s used to seeing Atsumu over him like this -
His body, bare for the world to see, a little more muscular than Kiyoomi’s - covers him entirely, securing him like a blanket.
But now, he looks unreal. Handsome. Like a dream.
There’s a twinge of hesitation - of slight cautiousness as he traces his hand down Kiyoomi’s naked body. Memorizing. Taking in every inch of him. “You’re so beautiful, Omi.”
And god -
This isn’t good for his heart - it’s a lot.
They’ve been in this position before - from their first kiss to their first sleepover. And somehow, being like this - still made him feel like it was the first time all over again.
“Atsumu…” He whispers.
“I-“ Atsumu swallows nervously. “I want to make sure I make ya feel good so - so if there’s something you don’t like…” He trails off.
Kiyoomi runs a hand up and down his arm reassuringly, peering up at him. “You always make me feel good, this isn’t anything different.”
“But-“
He leans up to capture his lips in a kiss. Atsumu freezes briefly before he’s cupping Kiyoomi’s face and returning the gesture. “Make me feel good. Please?” Kiyoomi asks, pleads.
His boyfriend searches his face for a moment - to check for any hint of hesitation or fear. He sees none and it’s enough to have him kissing Kiyoomi again, this time with more intention - hunger.
Atsumu’s hands are warm as they explore Kiyoomi’s skin, leaving trails of heat and reassurance in their wake. Kiyoomi has to pull away to catch his breath - his eyes fluttering shut as Atsumu kisses and nips at his neck.
There’s a clumsiness to their movements, a few nervous laughs here and there as they try to figure each other out, but it only makes the moment feel sweeter, more real.
And when Atsumu sinks that first finger into him - Kiyoomi burns in the best way. “A-Atsumu.” He whimpers, fingers digging into broad shoulders.
“Fuck Omi - you’re so tight.” Atsumu rests his forehead on Kiyoomi’s chest as his finger moves in and out of him. Once he’s sure Kiyoomi is used to the feeling he adds his middle finger - slowly starting to work him open.
It’s overwhelming in the best way and Kiyoomi can’t help the small sounds that fall from his lips - all of it spurring Atsumu on.
He’s stretched and wet and ready when Atsumu rests in his elbow above him, cock in his free hand aimed to push inside of him when he pauses and meetings Kiyoomi’s eyes. “Ya still good, Omi?”
Kiyoomi smiles and runs a hand through slightly sweaty blond strands. “Yes. More than. Fuck me? Please?”
Atsumu swears under his breath and the fingers resting above his head clench into the sheets tightly. “Okay - okay sweetheart. Whatever ya want.”
Then.
Then.
Kiyoomi is full. So incredibly full and warm and consumed by bliss.
“Fuck.” Atsumu’s jaw clenches as he sinks deep, deep, deep inside of him until Kiyoomi is filled to the hilt.
Kiyoomi’s breath catches, his entire body pulled taut and sensitive as Atsumu finally bottoms out. He feels stretched, grounded, and somehow so weightless all at once - like he’s being held together and pulled apart by every point where they touch.
It’s intense, overwhelming, but in a way that he wants to surrender to - to lose himself in.
Atsumu is still for a moment, his hand stroking gently along Kiyoomi’s side as he murmurs, “God, you feel so good, baby… better than I coulda ever imagined.” His voice is thick, filled with awe, and it sends a warmth flooding through Kiyoomi's entire body that’s almost as powerful as the feeling of being filled so completely.
Kiyoomi’s fingers curl into Atsumu’s biceps, anchoring himself as he shifts, adjusting to the feeling, letting a soft sound slip from his lips. “Move,” he whispers, voice shaky, but certain. “Please.”
Atsumu’s eyes darken with a mix of desire and tenderness as he pulls back slowly, and then sinks back in drawing out a moan from Kiyoomi, gentle but firm, each movement deliberate, as if he’s savoring every second.
They find a rhythm, slow and unhurried, building together with each thrust. Kiyoomi’s hands wander over Atsumu’s shoulders, his back, feeling the strength and warmth beneath his skin.
The pleasure rises, coiling inside him like a storm, but there’s something else, something deeper, as Atsumu leans down, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along his neck, whispering his name like a prayer.
They’re clumsy at moments, a bit too fast, then a bit too slow, fumbling to find what feels right, but they laugh together when they slip up, their bodies reconnecting, finding each other in between every quiet giggle and every whispered touch.
Kiyoomi feels adored - so, so adored - cherished by each touch, each kiss, each roll of Atsumu’s hips.
Taking him. Claiming. Making him Atsumu’s.
And just when he thinks he can’t take any more, Atsumu’s hand slips between them, stroking his cock in time with their movements, sending a fresh wave of pleasure that has him gasping, his back arching as he clings to Atsumu, his breath hitching.
The sensation is overwhelming, blinding, his heart pounding, and for a moment, everything falls away except for the two of them, the soft, broken sounds they make, the way they fit together so perfectly.
When they finally fall over the edge, it’s like a release and a merging all at once. Kiyoomi’s mouth drops open as Atsumu cums inside of him, his own cock twitching and spurting cum across his abs.
Atsumu holds him close, hands shaking slightly as they come down together, breaths mingling, their hearts pounding in sync. They stay wrapped up in each other, even after the high fades, neither wanting to let go, reluctant to break the moment.
Kiyoomi feels Atsumu’s fingers gently trailing along his back, the feeling soothing.
He rests his head against the pillows as Atsumu pulls out - his cum trailing out of him, onto the sheets below.
Letting himself be pulled into Atsumu’s arms, they settle into each other, their breaths slowly evening out.
Kiyoomi melts into the warmth surrounding him, the steady beat of Atsumu’s heart beneath his ear.
He feels loved—truly, deeply loved—in a way that he’s never felt before. It’s terrifying—because, because he shouldn’t feel so much, so young.
But he does - he feels love and loved. Feels it etched within him, carved out beneath his ribs.
Terrifying.
Exhilarating.
“I really like you,” Kiyoomi murmurs, a slight smile pulling at his lips.
Atsumu chuckles, a soft, content sound as he brushes his lips against Kiyoomi’s sweat damp curls. “I really like you too, sweetheart. More than ya could ever know.”
It’s not the confession either are willing to admit yet - not now. They had time.
There was no rush.